"Still not interesting enough for you?" he asks with a smile more conceited than ever, and gets out of the car. I hesitate for almost a minute before pushing the door open and stepping into the dry, evening air with an uneasy feeling.
"You don't look happy," James says, closing my door and looking at me with genuine concern.
"Not a fan of flying," I admit. "It makes me sick."
"You won't get sick, I promise." He wraps one arm around my waist and silences my protest with a kiss. Soft. Sweet. Short.
But enough to awake the torturous, almost painful craving that overcame me at the party.
"I'm glad you called," he says in a low voice that tells me he shares my yearning.
"Glad enough to go somewhere else?" I murmur half-joking, half-serious.
He stares at me intently for a few seconds, then lets go of my waist with a dead-serious expression. "Was that a booty call?"
"What? No. I just—I mean, I'd rather not fly." When he still looks unconvinced I add, "When you said it will be fun I thought that—" I stop mid-sentence because he bursts out laughing and pulls me toward him again. My cheeks burn.
"I meant sex? You're adorable." Something flutters joyfully in my stomach. He places a soft kiss on my cheek and then slides away, biting my earlobe. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty of it later," he whispers in my ear.
"I would never have taken you for the booty call type," he jokes.
"Remind me to introduce you to Jess sometime," I mumble as he lets go of me.
"Let's go," he urges and we start walking toward the only door along the fence. "The others have been waiting for a while already."
"Oh," I exclaim, hurrying after him. The thought that we wouldn't be alone never crossed my mind. As we slide between aircrafts, I wonder who exactly the others are.
My answer comes in an English accent. "You took your time, all right."
Parker appears in the doorway of the only plane with a ladder attached to it. Without his mask, the similarities between Parker and James are not so apparent anymore. Parker's cheekbones are more pronounced and his hair and eyebrows lighter; right now they're so arched they almost get lost in his hairline. I assume my unexpected presence is at fault for that. He recovers quickly, and smiles. "Lovely to see you again, Serena. Now, both of you get inside." He disappears from the doorway.
"James, I really don't think this is a good idea," I say, eying the small aircraft. It looks fancy and stylish, but I get grossly sick even on a Boeing 737. A tight knot forms in my throat. It can only get worse in this one.
"It's not as small as it looks," James says, looking at me amused.
"I—"
He puts his hand around my shoulders. "I'll find a solution if you get sick."
"I will get sick," I say but the reassurance in his tone made the knot in my throat loosen. I take one deep breath and start climbing the ladder.
He is right, the plane isn't that small. There are twice as many seats as I thought—six sleek leather chairs, arranged in three rows of two. All of their occupants wear an expression of stunned surprise, except Parker and the guy next to him, who's asleep, leaning on the window with his mouth hanging open. His shaved head reminds me of an egg.
"Everyone," James says, putting an arm over my shoulders, "I want you to meet Serena."
"Serena, you already know Parker. This is Thomas, Ralph—the one who's asleep—, Angela, Christie, and Natalie." My gaze freezes on the last face. Natalie is the lark. And she seems as happy to see me as I am to see her.
As I wave at everyone, I find myself inadvertently wondering if James was ever involved with Christie and Angela. They're both tall and attractive. Christie's got beautiful green eyes and blonde hair, and Angela resembles an angel more than anyone I've encountered in my life. I remind myself that it shouldn't matter if he did.
James gestures to the two seats on the row next to Christie and Natalie. I choose the window one and buckle my seatbelt the instant I sit down. James watches me chuckling. "Someone wake up Ralph," he says.
"God no, he's so much more fun when he's asleep," Christie says and everyone laughs, releasing some of the tension caused by my presence.
"Where are we going?" I ask, realizing I still have no idea.
"Nowhere, unless you count the clouds as a destination," someone says from the back. Thomas I think. "And that wouldn't be acceptable unless you're high already." Another round of laughter.
I stare at James confused. He wears an ear-to-ear grin that for the first time doesn't look conceited. "We're skydiving," he says just as the plane starts moving.